Path of a Star
by Angel of Fate
Summary: The life of Daniel Walker, his journey to becoming a man. The hardships, the romance with his best friend’s little sister and everything the world had to offer him.
1. Chapter One

Author: Brinny (Angel of Fate)

Disclaimer: Of course I own none of the rights to _Pearl Harbor. _If I did, out sweet Danny wouldn't have died in the end. :::sniffles:::

Summary: The life of Daniel Walker, his journey to becoming a man. The hardships, the romance with his best friend's little sister and everything the world had to offer him.

AN: I've read a few other stories with Rafe's younger sister and Danny as love interests. Although my story does focus on that, it's not the primary basis for the story. And it's the fics of others (which are so awesome by the way) that in part inspired me to write my own. 

****

Path of a Star

Tennessee, 1932.

"Walker steps up to the plate. Bases are loaded, two outs," young Rafe McCawley commentated, from the makeshift pitcher's mound, turning over the well worn baseball in his hand. "If McCawley strikes him out, he wins the World Series."

"If McCawley strikes him out I'll eat shit!" the slightly younger Danny Walker shouted back. 

Rafe smiled crookedly at his best friend, before spitting into his hands and adjusting his grip on the ball. He wound up and threw a hard, fast curveball. Danny swung and missed. 

"Strike one!" Rafe smirked. Danny shook his head and lightly tapped the wooden bat against his shoes. Rafe pitched another curveball; Danny missed that one too. "Strike two!"

"C'mon give me something good to hit!" Danny exclaimed. 

"If you can't handle the heat boy…" Rafe laughed and floated Danny the next ball. This time a load crack erupted in the air as the ball went soaring out into the field. 

"Dinner!" Mrs. McCawley called out from the porch of the old farmhouse. Her daughter, Elizabeth, who was standing behind her, took a seat on the front steps, tucking her skirt beneath her legs.

The two boys ran up to the house, laughing and out of breath. 

"Are you staying for dinner Daniel?" Mrs. McCawley asked.

"If I'm invited ma'am," Danny replied politely. 

"You always are," she ran her fingers through his brown hair, and placed her other arm around her own son. 

Danny often stayed at the McCawley house, whether it was for dinner or just to avoid his own home. His mother had died just the year before and his father had beaten him for as long as he could remember. The abuse seemed to get worse after his mother had passed and Danny's only refuge was with Rafe and his family, who welcomed him with open arms. 

"That's good Mama," Rafe grinned wickedly, "because Danny was just about to eat something awful tonight."

"Hey I hit that last one!" Danny protested.

"Only 'cause I let you," Rafe said darting into the house before Danny could chase him. Mrs. McCawley rolled her eyes at her son and went in after him with the reminder that there was no running in the house. 

"What were you going to eat?" the small blonde asked from her spot on the steps. 

"Oh, you're brother's just havin' fun with me," Danny answered and scooped her up in his arms swinging her around until she giggled. Danny was bigger than Rafe and could pick up his little sister with ease. He placed her down and gently shoved her into the house. 

Elizabeth had had a crush on Danny since the day Rafe and brought him home, the poor boy following him like a lost puppy. Danny still looked like that sometimes, his brown eyes saddened and the corners of his mouth pulling into a frown. She was only a year younger than Danny, who was a whole two years younger than Rafe, but it always seemed like Danny was the oldest of them all. At fourteen he'd grown up too fast. 

"Did y'all wash your hands after roughing around outside?" Mr. McCawley asked as they sat down to dinner. 

"Yes sir," the three answered in unison. 

"Hey, who wants to help me fix up that old crop duster I got hanging 'round the back?" Mr. McCawley questioned, while picking around at his food.

"Danny's real good at that stuff Pop," Rafe offered. Rafe wasn't much for repairing planes, but oh how he could fly them. Danny had the lucky advantage of being able to do both. 

"Really?" his father raised his eyebrows at Danny.

"I'm okay I guess," Danny shrugged. 

"Well you boys can join me after dinner if you want," Mr. McCawley smiled broadly. 

"I should really be gettin' home after supper," Danny shifted in his seat nervously. "Daddy doesn't like me out too late."

Danny who had grown into a man at fourteen, whose father beat on him, still called his dad, Daddy. Still held a certain affection for a man who half the time couldn't care if Danny was alive or dead, as long as the beer was cold. 

"Of course Danny," Mrs. McCawley nodded her head.

"So, Elizabeth, how was school today sweetheart?" her father inquired.

"Fine, I suppose," she replied indifferently.

"Rafe?" Mr. McCawley looked in his direction.

"Usual," Rafe responded. If there was something that Rafe hated with a passion, it was schooling. He just couldn't get his brain around letters, and you needed to know your words in school. 

"Rafe hit a home run out in the schoolyard today," Danny boasted. "Isn't that right Rafe?"

"Wow, that's great son," Mr. McCawley said. 

"Hey Pop, can Danny and me take the plane up tomorrow?" Rafe asked excitedly. 

"If your chores and schoolwork are done," Rafe's mother answered for her husband. 

"How come _I _never get to fly…" Elizabeth muttered. 

"Cause you're too little, that's why," Rafe explained. 

"I am not!" she protested. "I'm only a year younger than Danny—"

"Elizabeth, no daughter of mine is going to fly a plane, it's too dangerous," Mr. McCawley stated. 

"But—" she began once more.

"Elizabeth Grace, this matter is closed. Do you hear me?" Mr. McCawley scowled.

"Yes sir," Elizabeth responded. 

"Don't worry Lizzie," Danny whispered into her ear. He was so close, his warm breath tickling her neck that it caused Elizabeth to shiver. "I'll take you up someday." 

Rafe, overhearing, leaned over and told his friend in a low voice, "Don't be making her promises you can't keep Danny."

"Who says I can't keep 'em?" Danny hissed back.

"Boys," Mrs. McCawley warned in a motherly tone. They stopped arguing but continued to silently glare at each other. 

"Thanks for dinner Mrs. McCawley, but I best be on my way," Danny stood up.

"You're always welcome Danny, you know that," she smiled.

"And maybe tomorrow after you and Rafe done flying we can fix up that duster," Mr. McCawley said, between bites.

"Sure thing," Danny grinned. "Thanks again, Mrs. McCawley, it was delicious." 

Danny nodded slightly to Rafe who still seemed a little upset at the idea of Danny taking his sister up in a plane. Promising her he would at that. Danny had just made it out to the front path when Elizabeth came bounding out the door. 

"Did you mean it Danny?" she hollered, although he was no more than a few feet from her.

"Mean what?" Danny shook the hair out of his eyes.

"That you'd take me flying, did you mean it?" Elizabeth walked up the path towards him.

"'Course I meant it Lizzie," he grinned at her.

"Then thank you," she stood on tiptoes and lightly kissed him on the cheek.

"I will Lizzie, one day I will take you flying," Danny told her, his face flushed from where her lips had pressed against his skin. 

"I'll hold you to that," she murmured softly. 

"I never break a promise," he stated. "Never." 

"I hope not," Elizabeth declared. "Goodnight Danny."

"Goodnight Elizabeth," Danny began walking off the path and through the field to his own house. He turned to see Elizabeth still standing there, her arms crossed over her middle, the gentle breeze blowing her cotton dress. 

Just when had little thirteen-year-old Lizzie gotten so pretty? 

****


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: Okay, I confess I _do _own the rights to _Pearl Harbor_. Haha. :::scoff::: Riiight.

AN: First of all thanks to everyone who reviewed, it means the world to me. Now, onto to business. I've changed the date from chapter one to 1932, not 1931. _(EDIT: It's now also changed in chapter one, so you can just ignore that)_ So, it's now two years later, not three. Also I have know idea exactly what the training in Long Island is called, but I read somewhere (I think on fanfiction.net too) that it might have been something like the Army Air Corps. If not and anyone knows what it _is _called, please tell me. Okay, so enough of boring you with that, onto chapter two. Enjoy! 

****

Tennessee 1934

"So what do you think?" Rafe asked, his eyes searching Danny's face for an answer. He was leaning casually against the old crop duster, still donning his cap and goggles. Danny was half bent over the plane, desperately trying to fix the engine that had been giving Mr. McCawley trouble all week. 

"I think you're crazy Rafe," Danny replied not looking up. 

"C'mon Danny!" he sighed in frustration. 

"C'mon nothing Rafe! You don't need to be up and leaving, volunteering for something that you have no need to be," Danny countered. He held a wrench in his hand; a greasy rag tucked into the pocket of his aged overalls. 

Rafe had told him he was thinking of applying for the training in the Army Air Base Academy in Long Island, New York. Danny couldn't bear to think of his best friend being all those miles away. What would he do without Rafe by his side? It was Rafe who had protected him from everything, even his own father. 

"Then come with me Danny," Rafe pleaded. "Just me and you, flyin' together." 

"Rafe," his voice became thick. "You know I can't leave."

"And why not Danny? Because of your father?" he shouted. "That drunk doesn't give a damn about you."

"Maybe he does," Danny shrugged, trying to blink back tears. "Maybe he doesn't."

"Oh Danny," Rafe groaned. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Danny replied in a way that made Rafe believe that it wasn't. 

"I just," Rafe paused. "I don't understand why you can't leave. There's nothing here to stay for Danny. We could be in New York. Flying Danny."

"Listen Rafe, I know that you wouldn't understand. You don't have to and I'm not even asking you to try to. I only want you to know that I can't leave with you," he stated firmly. "And I don't think you should be leaving either. But that just my two cents is all."

"Leaving to where?" the soft voice from behind them questioned.

Both boys turned around to see Elizabeth standing behind them, one hand set upon her hip, her head tilted to one side awaiting an answer. If Danny had thought Lizzie was pretty at thirteen, two years later the girl was positively gorgeous. 

"Nowhere, now scat," Rafe jerked his head towards the house.

"Rafe," she placed her arms around his neck, letting herself dangle from his long frame. "I'm your little sister and I can tell there's something you're hiding."

"I ain't hiding nothing Lizzie," Rafe huffed and untangled himself from her. 

Elizabeth frowned at her brother, who took off his cap and goggles flinging them into the front seat of the plane. Her eyes darted between him and his best friend. Danny's mouth was set in a thin line; the tools he had been using were now lying forgotten on the ground as the awkward silence filled the air. 

Danny glanced one more time at Rafe before blurting out, "Your brother wants to go train in Long Island, with the Army Air Corps."

"He wants to what?" Elizabeth screeched.

"Danny!" Rafe exclaimed.

"It's not like you can just leave and no one's gonna notice Rafe," Danny reasoned. Rafe exhaled loudly and turned to look at Danny. 

"I know that," he said.

"Why Rafe?" Elizabeth inquired quietly, sounding almost childlike. 

"Jesus Lizzie, what do you mean why? Because I love flying, because I don't want to live in Tennessee all my life making a living outta crop dusting like Pop," he explained.

"Well, what about us Rafe?" she asked angrily. "What about me and Mama and Danny? Don't you love us enough to stay?" She began to shake.

"Of course I do Elizabeth," Rafe told her, placing his hands on her shoulders in attempt to steady her.

"We're just not worth it then, huh?" she shrugged off his grip and began to run out into the field.

"What's with that girl?" Rafe shook his head.

"That's just it Rafe, she's a girl. She doesn't want her big brother to leave," Danny said. "Maybe if you give her some time, she'll warm up to the idea."

"What, are you saying that you have?" Rafe asked.

"No," Danny answered slowly. "Well, maybe some, but I ain't going with you and I still think you're plenty crazy."

"Yeah, well," Rafe smiled. "You always did."

"With good reason," Danny smiled and wiped his hands on the cloth that hung from his pocket. "There was the time you jumped off the barn trying to fly, the time when we pretty much hijacked you dad's crop duster and _did_ fly. And hell, what about the time you asked out Laura Anderson by hanging that banner on the plane?" 

"She said yes I'll have you know," Rafe laughed. 

"Like I could forget," Danny reminded him. "Oh Rafe, yes! I'll be your girl Rafe," he said in a high falsetto. Rafe gave him a playful jab in the gut. 

Rafe and Laura had been inseparable for about a year or so before her family had moved down to Kentucky. Her and Rafe wrote for awhile, but Rafe wasn't much for letters and neither was Laura. Eventually Laura met somebody down there and the letters had stopped altogether. Sometimes Danny thought that Rafe still missed her, but he could never be sure. Rafe had always been somewhat of a ladies man, not in that he'd have a dozen women, but usually one steady girlfriend. Danny, however, was quite the opposite. He'd never had a girlfriend, let alone a steady one. 

"How's the plane coming?" Rafe peered over to see the progress.

"I'd say she's about finished," Danny said. "And not a moment too soon. I ought to be heading back home."

"Already Danny?" Rafe glanced at his wristwatch.

"Yeah, I've got some chores that are waiting for me at home," Danny scratched his left eyebrow, a telltale sign that he was lying. 

"Sure Danny," Rafe nodded, ignoring the fact that he wasn't telling the truth.

"See ya Rafe," Danny waved.

"Oh, Danny, Ma says you can come over for dinner tomorrow. And think about what I said Danny," Rafe reminded him. 

"I will Rafe, and tell your Mama thanks," Danny ducked around the back, taking a shortcut.

He walked slowly, not really wanting to go home, but he couldn't stay at the McCawley home either. Danny was afraid that if he stayed any longer he'd take Rafe up on his offer to go with him. It didn't sound like a bad a idea, in fact. Leaving Tennessee and all his problems behind actually seemed pretty appealing. Danny had told Rafe that he wouldn't understand why he couldn't leave, but in truth Danny wasn't all too sure he understood himself. 

"Danny?" the small voice rang out into the air interrupting his thoughts. 

Danny looked up to see Elizabeth McCawley sitting in the old tree house that Mr. McCawley had built years back, her legs dangling over the edge. Danny climbed up the limbs of the shallow tree, Elizabeth moving aside so he could hop in. 

"What are you doing up here Lizzie?" Danny asked.

"Thinking," she replied, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. 

"'Bout what?" Danny pried.

"Oh, about everything. Rafe mostly," Elizabeth answered. "Why does he want to leave us?"

"It's not that Lizzie, it's just--" Danny sighed. "Well, Rafe, he wants to be a pilot. And this, going to Long Island, is his big opportunity."

"I know," Elizabeth admitted, she hung her head as tears welled up in her eyes. Quickly she brushed them away, but they seemed to fall just as fast. Elizabeth sucked in a shaky breath; it wasn't as if Rafe was leaving this moment. Although, somehow it was an awakening for Lizzie, they were growing up. 

"Don't cry," he whispered, tilting her chin upwards. Gently he brushed away her tears with the pad of his thumb, letting his touch linger a little longer than he had intended. 

"I still don't want him to go," Elizabeth flung her arms around Danny burying her tiny head in his broad shoulder, sobbing. She pressed her cheek against his chest, her small hands clinging to his shirt. 

"I don't either Elizabeth," Danny choked out a cry of his own as he hugged Lizzie back. "But it's not up to us."

"I know," she sniffled and reluctantly let go of Danny. Elizabeth wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hand. "Gosh I must look a mess. Sorry for—" 

"It's okay," Danny assured her. "And you look beautiful."

"Thank you," Elizabeth blushed. But Danny knew she was thanking him for more than just the compliment--which he meant with all his heart--she was thanking him for being there. "What would I do without you?" Elizabeth grinned and kissed the tip of his nose. 

As she pulled away, their eyes locked for a moment. They stared that way at each other, neither of them wanting to break the gaze. Slowly, Danny leaned forward and pressed his lips gently to hers. Elizabeth's fingers trailed up to Danny's neck, where they rested above his pulse before entwining in his hair. Danny's tongue swept across Elizabeth's lips as the kiss deepened, it was soft, but passionate. 

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," Danny confessed. 

"Well, I'm glad you did," Lizzie replied breathlessly. 

"Yeah, cause I've wanted to do that for a long time," he rested her forehead against hers.

"You just said that," she whispered. 

"Oh," Danny answered with a smile. 

Elizabeth smiled back, impishly as she initiated the second kiss. This kiss was longer, more intense, the slight awkwardness from the first kiss slowly melting away. Elizabeth placed her hand over Danny's, her fingers dancing upon his skin. As she touched his wrist her fingers grazed his watch. Danny abruptly pulled away.

"I have to go," he explained. 

"I understand," Elizabeth nodded with a hurtful expression, her mouth pulling into a frown. She quickly scampered out of the tree house, Danny running after her. 

"Elizabeth," he chuckled, grabbing her hand and turning her around. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Then how did you mean it?" she questioned, her lower lip quivering. 

"I meant," he began, cradling her face with his strong hands, his thumbs steadying her trembles. "That I have to be home. Had to be home actually, quite awhile ago."

"Oh," now it was her turn to mumble the word with a fluster. 

"Listen," Danny told her. "I don't know what's going on between us."

"Me either," Elizabeth agreed.

"But I like it Lizzie," he finished with a mischievous grin. 

Elizabeth blushed in response, both of them leaning in for one last kiss in the dark night, before Danny began jogging back to his house. Elizabeth smiled as she watched him go, her fingers sweeping lightly over her lips.

"I think I love you Daniel Walker," she murmured softly to herself. 

Danny reached his house out of breath. Panting as he opened the front door he called out, "Daddy? I'm home." 

He awaited a reply, but received none. Curious he started to search the small Walker house for his father. He opened the door to the tiny bedroom, more than half expecting to see him passed out on the bed with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. Instead Danny found the room empty. He took a seat on the worn bed, glancing around the sparse room. Sitting on the wooden table beside him was a photograph of his mother, seeming rather out of place in the dim room. 

Danny picked up the photo and held it lovingly in his hands. He missed her. It was just three years ago that she had died from pneumonia. She was the kindest woman that he'd ever known, with one of the warmest smiles. Danny often wondered why she had ever married a man like his father, an abusive drunk Although, he had heard that his Daddy wasn't always that way. That it was the war that had changed him. 

Danny held the photograph against his chest. He thought about his mother, about Rafe wanting to move to New York and about kissing little Lizzie McCawley. Danny sighed and drifted off into a peaceful sleep. 


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: You know the drill. Don't own 'em, never have, never will. And the lyrics to "That's An Irish Lullaby" do not belong to me either. Who'd of thunk it?

AN: Okay, I uploaded _slightly _(and I do mean slightly) revised chapters of the last 2 chapters. A big thank you to Tom Stiles, who pointed out that if Rafe didn't go that he would be considered AWOL. So, basically if you're not going to go back and read the other chapters (LOL, which I don't expect you to) Rafe was just _considering _going to the Air Army Corps, but he never applied or anything. Other changes were just some spelling/grammatical stuff. Nothing major. There'll probably be more in this chapter as well. 

Also, I'm sure many of you have read the early draft of the script to _Pearl Harbor _online and a portion (let's be honest, a HUGE hunk) of this chapter is based on parts of that script. Don't want to spoil it for you, but I'm betting you'll know what I mean when you read on. 

A huge thank you to all of you who reviewed! You guys are too sweet. Expect a little personal thank you via email (if you have one listed on your account) from me sometime soon. And as always I appreciate constructive criticism, so let me know what you _really _think. 

And now onto the chapter! Enjoy!

__

Edit: Below is the newly revised chapter 3. All the other disclaimers and notes still apply. 

Tennessee 1934

It had happened just last week. Clay Walker had bought some cheap whiskey and drank the whole bottle on his way home. But he never made it. Instead he passed out on the tracks that led out of town. The train never even saw him lying there. He had been killed instantly. 

Danny stood in silence, the rain falling steadily upon him and Rafe. His hands remained in clenched fists at his sides, Rafe's arm resting lightly across his shoulders. Tears streamed down Danny's handsome face, mixing with the cool raindrops already wet upon his cheeks. Not a word was spoken as Rafe slowly, led Danny away from the grave. 

"Don't worry Danny," Rafe said uncertainly as they walked through the rain. "Everything will turn out alright." 

Danny nodded, numbly as he followed his friend. 

"I ain't," Rafe drew in a ragged breath, "I ain't going away no more. At least not for awhile anyway."

"Oh," Danny whispered wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. 

"Yeah," he replied. "I figure I'll stick around for a bit and, you know, help out Pop."

"Rafe," Danny stopped and looked at him. "You don't have to stay for me. I'm gonna be fine."

"I know you are Danny," Rafe gave a weak grin. "And I'm not staying for you. I just don't think that Long Island is ready for the world's best pilot."

Danny didn't laugh.

They continued walking without another word until they reached the old farmhouse. Mr. McCawley stood on the front porch, his hands shoved uncomfortably in his pockets. 

"Hi there," he greeted them solemnly. 

"Hi Pop," Rafe returned. 

Mrs. McCawley rushed through the door at the sound of her son's voice. She quickly hurried them all inside from the wet and cold. Drawing both Rafe and Danny near she hugged them tight. 

"Welcome home boys," she said softly. 

Elizabeth watched from a distance, her small hands wrapped around the edge of the doorframe as she peered into the room. Her emerald eyes caught Danny's, but he avoided her gaze. He offered a forced grin to Mrs. McCawley before releasing himself from her loving grasp. 

"If you need anything Danny," Mrs. McCawley cradled his chin with her thin fingers. 

"No. Thank you ma'am," he nodded briefly before trailing slowly to Rafe's—and now his—room. 

"I should—" Rafe started, but Mr. McCawley placed his arm out before him. 

"No son," he said. "I think you should let him be for awhile." 

"Sure Pop," he agreed. Him and Rafe shared a painful look. Then his father pulled him into a fierce embrace as if because Danny lost his dad that he would surely loose his son. 

Lizzie quietly tiptoed into her brother's bedroom, where she found Danny sitting stiffly on the bed, his hands folded neatly in his lap. She tentatively sat beside him, gently taking one of his hands in her own. The room was dark, but even in the dim light, Elizabeth could see Danny's sad eyes. It was a look, she was sad to admit, that she had seen often. 

"I'm so sorry," she told him in a hushed tone. 

"What for?" Danny asked.

"Well," Elizabeth looked at him questioningly. "For your father."

"It's not like you did anything," he hung his head low as if trying to hide from her.

"I'm still sorry that you're hurting," she turned to him, shifting closer, almost half in his lap. Her weight was oddly comforting. "I know you loved him."

"Yeah," Danny scoffed. "But I don't think he loved me. He didn't even care. He decided that drinking was more important than his life. Was more important than his own son," Danny's voice wavered as he bit back the tears. They fell quietly and Elizabeth kissed them away, leaving no trace of the wet trails down his cheeks. 

"You don't know what it's like Elizabeth. To come home every night and find him passed out cold. But sometimes I'd pray for those days. A man dead drunk can't hit you, you know?" 

Lizzie didn't know at all, but nodded empathetically. She leaned in again, placing a soft kiss on his cheek, but he pushed her away. 

"I think I need to be alone," he murmured. 

"Danny," Elizabeth soothed. "You have people who love you now. People who care."

"You?" Danny inquired, cynically. 

"Just maybe Daniel Walker," she answered. "Just maybe," Lizzie echoed encircling him in her small arms. 

"Maybe is better than nothing," he stated halfheartedly.

"Goodnight Danny," she whispered. 

Elizabeth stood and smiled sadly. She ran her fingers through his messy hair before kissing him briefly upon the lips. 

"Goodnight Lizzie," he replied. 

She exited the room as soundlessly as she could, but as she closed the door behind her she was met by the eyes of her brother. His mouth pulled into a slight scowl as he folded his arms across his broad chest.

"I was checking on Danny," Elizabeth explained. Rafe's expression softened a little. 

"How is he?" he asked. 

"Alright I suppose," she half shrugged as if she didn't know the answer to his question at all. 

"Damn drunk," Rafe cursed under his breath. 

"Rafe—" she placed her hand on his arm. 

"Listen," he huffed. "I'm sorry, but that man…" Rafe trailed off. 

"I know," Elizabeth's mouth turned into the same upset frown as Rafe's. 

"Yes sir," she stood on tiptoe, kissing Rafe lightly on the cheek. "Night Rafe."

"You ought to be getting some shuteye too son," Mr. McCawley said. 

"Yeah," Rafe agreed. It had been a long day, and Rafe had a feeling that the night wasn't going to be any better. "Goodnight Pop."

"Sleep well Rafe," his father told him. 

"Daddy?" asked Elizabeth in a somewhat small voice. She stood in the doorway to her room, dressed in her nightgown, a sad look playing upon the pretty features of her face.

"Yes?" He turned to her, his hand sweeping across his dark beard. 

"Could you tuck me in?" Lizzie questioned. 

"Of course," Mr. McCawley answered, a light smile on his face.

Elizabeth crawled into bed, a yawn tugging at the corners of her mouth. Her father sat down beside her and pulled the handmade patchwork quilt up to her shoulders. He ran his fingers over her golden curls before dropping a kiss upon her forehead. 

"Remember," he began, "when you were just a little thing, and I'd come in her every night. Tuck you in and sing you sleep…"

Elizabeth nodded, of course she remembered. Her father's warm soothing voice would wash over her like a warm blanket. 

"Over in Killarney, many years ago. My mother sang a song to me in tones so sweet and low," Mr. McCawley started in a thick baritone. "Just a simple Irish ditty in her good old Irish way. And I'd give the world if she could sing that song to me this day."   


It was no wonder they called them lullabies. Elizabeth's eyes slowly began to close as her father sang so lovingly. "Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, too-ra-loo-ra-li. Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, hush now, don't you cry. Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, too-ra-loo-ra-li. Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, that's an Irish lullaby."   


"Goodnight Lizzie Grace," her father whispered, kissing her again, this time lightly on the cheek.

"Daddy?" Elizabeth asked for the second time tonight, although now her voice was laced with the lethargic tone of sleep. "Thank you."

"I love you Elizabeth," was his simple response.

He left quietly and not a moment after he did, Elizabeth's eyes once more closed. A nagging feeling of guilt tugged at the back of her mind as Mr. McCawley's voice still echoed through her head. She knew that Danny's father wasn't the best man in the world, probably far from in it, in fact. But still, he was a part of Danny, someone that Danny had dearly loved and now he was gone. A tear slid down Lizzie's face. She wasn't quite sure if it was for Danny or for herself. 

Danny didn't sleep that night. The second his eyes closed the image of Clay Walker would flash before him. His fist landing hard across Danny's jaw. The way he'd hold his bottle of beer at the ends of his fingertips, as if performing a balancing act. His crooked smile, that Danny's mother had insisted her son had inherited. 

Drenched in sweat, and shivering with a mixture of sadness, fear and the cold, Danny leapt out of the bed. Quickly, he made sure that his sudden movement hadn't disturbed the already sleeping Rafe. But Rafe only turned on his side, groaning slightly. He tiptoed out the room, trying to be quiet. 

As he entered the hallway, Danny stole a glance in the direction of Elizabeth's room. She, too, was sleeping contently. Her hand rested lightly on her cheek, her lips parted, her chest rising with every breath she took. When she stirred, Danny continued to walk down the hall. He didn't want to wake her, especially when she seemed so peaceful. Danny briefly pondered what she might be dreaming while she slept and silently hoped it wasn't anything like his nightmares. 

He stopped at the kitchen, opening the icebox and searching for the bottle of milk. Finding it, he poured himself a glass. 

"Daniel?" he heard Mr. McCawley's gruff voice ask. 

"Yes sir," Danny responded. 

"What are you doing up son?" he inquired. 

"Couldn't sleep…" Danny feebly told him. 

Mr. McCawley frowned, and took a seat at the table. Danny looked back at him, before sitting down himself. 

"We're here for you Danny, if you ever need anything," Mr. McCawley offered the same words his wife had earlier that evening. 

"Thank you sir," he replied. 

"It's James, or at the very least, Mr. McCawley," he told him, with a smile.

"Oh," Danny said uncomfortably. 

"Don't worry son. You're home here," Mr. McCawley grinned again, before standing up. He gave Danny a light pat on the back, then tightened his robe and stifled a yawn. "Night Danny."

"Goodnight Mr. McCawley," he returned.

Home. He was home here. Danny liked the sound of that.


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: They ain't mine.

AN: I've uploaded a revised chapter _again_. This time it was chapter 3. I just poked at it a bit, added some stuff. Nothing earth shattering. You might want to check the revisions, because a teeny tiny, itty-bitty of this chapter makes reference. 

In this chapter, you might notice a little similarity between Danny/Elizabeth and Danny/Evelyn. It's supposed to be there. 

I suppose I'm about done my little note. Thanks, as always, for the wonderful reviews. And enjoy! 

Tennessee 1934

Tennessee was unquestionably hot in the summer. The air was thick and muggy, even as the heat of the sun had began to slowly descend below the horizon. Lizzie lay cradled in Danny's lap, under the shade of one tree's generous branches. Her head rested upon his chest, his hand lying ever so teasingly on her stomach. A cool, gentle breeze flitted through the air, causing Elizabeth to shiver. Danny pulled her closer. 

"What are we doing here Danny?" Elizabeth asked, her bright, blue eyes gazing up at him. 

"I never pegged you as a philosophizing type Lizzie," Danny remarked. 

"No," she frowned. Elizabeth bit her lip and drew in a deep breath. "I mean us Danny. If there is an us." 

"Of course there's an us," he assured her, his lips pressing into her hair. Elizabeth shifted her position, so she was now sitting beside him, removing Danny's hand in the process. 

"Danny, this last month I've been nothing but confused," she stated. At his probing look she continued. "I mean, everything is going too fast. Rafe wanting to go away flying in New York—"

"But he's staying Lizzie," he gently reminded her. 

"I know that Danny. That's just the beginning is all. Then there's you and me. Well, I guess mostly you. Maybe it's us…I just don't know!" Elizabeth threw her hands up in frustration. Picking herself up she began to pace uncomfortably. Danny too stood, but he remained still. "Danny, when you kissed me that night, everything changed."

"I thought that was a good thing," Danny said, with a noticeable edge to his voice. 

"Me too," she smiled softly. "And I think everything changed again when your father died Danny. You're the same, but different." 

"You don't know what that's like," he countered.

"You're right Danny. I don't, but you won't tell me." 

Tears began to well up in her eyes. Danny instinctively wrapped his arms around her, drawing her near. He quickly wiped away the tears that never had a chance to roll down her rosy cheeks, kissing her softly in the process. 

"Stop," Elizabeth suddenly pulled out of the embrace. Danny tried to suppress the look of hurt from gracing his face. "This, Danny, this is what I'm talking about."

"What?" he questioned in an even tone, although he was quivering inside. 

"I want to know what's going on with us. Are we friends? Is it more than that? What?" Elizabeth paused, trying to steady her now trembling hands. Danny took them in his own "Why do I feel that every time you kiss me, I'm doing something wrong? Why haven't we told anyone?"

"I don't know why you think that kissing me is wrong, but that's not the way I feel Lizzie. You are much more than a friend to me. And maybe that's the reason that I don't want to tell anybody about us. I want to keep you all to myself," he explained slowly. 

Elizabeth remained silent. Partially because she didn't know how to react to what Danny had just told her, but also because she felt ashamed. As if she should have known to have faith in him. 

"I'm sorry," she began, Danny's arms once again holding her. "I just don't know what to do. I mean, we never really talked, about what we mean to each other. One day you were my brother's best friend, the next we're…"

"Listen to me Elizabeth. Remember that night, when you said that you might love me?" Danny asked her, as she nodded meekly. "Well I, Daniel Simon Walker, am completely in love with you."

Lizzie's face stretched out into a smile. She threw her arms around Danny's neck and kissed him soundly. 

"Answer all those questions that were floating around in that head of yours?" he asked, devilishly.

"All except one." A mischievous grin appeared on her lips. "Simon?" she inquired, a giggle forming at the back of her throat. Danny just shook his head at the sometimes silliness of the girl who was very much on her way to becoming a woman. 

"I do too, you know," Elizabeth whispered. "I think I always have."

"I suppose that settles it then," Danny replied with a faint laugh. "If you want," he offered. "We can tell everyone…about us I mean."

"Are you kidding?" Lizzie giggled as realization hit her hard. "Rafe would kill you."

"I bet he would," he agreed with a chuckle.

"You laugh," said Elizabeth. "But there's a shotgun out back." 

"Seriously?" Danny's eyes darted around nervously. Elizabeth cocked her head to one side, leaning into him and pulled both of them onto the grass. 

"Danny," she told him, "do you really think Rafe would get all upset like that? Enough to shoot you?" It was her turn to shake her head.

"If Rafe knew that I was in love with his sister? Little Lizzie Grace McCawley?" Danny raked back his tousled hair with his fingers, only to have Elizabeth brush it lovingly back into place. "Honestly? No."

"See?" she teased. She grinned again. Was it only moments ago that she had unshed tears in her eyes?

"Rafe wouldn't go for the gun Elizabeth. He'd ring my neck with his bare hands," Danny said in response. 

"Danny," Elizabeth sighed, her fingers drawing lazy circles upon his chest. He stopped her roaming hand with his own. Danny's fingers intertwined with hers gently, but firmly. 

"Elizabeth," his free hand found its way to her waist, where it sat holding her near. "The reason I don't talk about my father is that I want to forget. I just want to shut it out, like it never happened. It's not that I don't want to—" 

"Shh," Elizabeth soothed. 

"You're everything to me Lizzie," Danny whispered.

"And you to me," she murmured into his chest. 

Danny tilted her chin towards his and kissed her softly. She smiled up to him, pressing her lips to his again. Lacing her fingers at the nape of his neck, Elizabeth made herself comfortable in his arms. 

"Remember," he began, tugging the ends of her golden curls, "that promise I made you two years ago? That I'd—" 

"Take me flying," Elizabeth finished, resting her cheek against his. She traced an imaginary line down the contour of his jaw, the tips of her fingers rubbing his chin and his lips. 

"You were so mad, that you dad wouldn't let you. And Rafe was mad that I said I would take you," Danny let out a low chuckle. 

"I remember," she said. "And I told you that I'd hold you to your promise." 

"Why didn't you?" he asked, shifting so she was looking at him.

"Why didn't I what?" Elizabeth's lips twitched into a questioning grin.

"Hold me to my promise. You never once asked about it. Told me to take you flying because I said I would." 

"Because," she shrugged simply, a gesture so innocent that it drove him wild. "I knew you that you wouldn't break that promise."

"How can you be so sure?" the corners of Danny's mouth upturned into a grin.

"Will you?" she inquired.

"No," he answered. "In fact, what do you say to right now?"

"Go flying, right now?" Elizabeth drew back to look at him. 

"Sure, why not?" Danny swiftly pulled her to her feet.

"In _what_?" Elizabeth glanced around the sparse field, dotted with trees, the McCawley house and barn behind them.

"Your dad's old duster," he answered, grabbing her hand as he excitedly ran down the path.

"Daniel Walker, are you crazy?" she shouted at him. "And don't you dare say 'I'm crazy about you'!" Elizabeth warned. 

"But I am," Danny responded, stopping to give her a quick peck on the lips. "C'mon," he tugged at arm. 

"You are crazy," she groaned. 

"I promised to take you flying, so I'm taking you flying," he replied, hoisting her into the plane. 

"Danny," she sputtered, as he too hopped in beside her. He looked at her with a reckless smile on his face as he started the engine.

"What was that?" he yelled over the loud roar that had now filled the air. 

"Danny," Elizabeth said once more. "I was saying—"

"Hmm?" Danny cupped his hand over his ear, leaning in jest to hear what she was telling him. 

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms across her chest with a huff. It was unbelievably amusing. Danny winked at her, the plane now beginning to ascend into the sky and with a rash movement scooped her up onto his lap. 

"I was saying," she repeated, placing a slender hand on his chest. "That even though you've completely lost your marbles. I love you."

"Good thing then," he picked up her hand and lightly kissed the inside of her palm. "So?" Danny asked, his free hand gesturing to the ground below them.

"It's beautiful," Elizabeth peered over the edge, her mouth quirked in half-smile.

Danny laughed as she took in the sights with fascination. Her hand still set firmly against his heart as she watched the golden sun begin to descend. She looked at Danny and sighed. "No wonder you love to fly."

"Why?" he smirked.

"Because up here it's so free, so far from the world," she moved closer to him. "Far from everything." 

She was right. There was a certain thrill to being so removed from the earth and all it's problems that drifted beneath him. But there was also a peace, a calm as he soared through the clouds. It was the same way he felt when he was with Elizabeth, just like he was flying.


End file.
